


if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

by lunalou



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Magic, Married Life, Minecraft, Multi, Polyamory, References to Depression, YDYD AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:44:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunalou/pseuds/lunalou
Summary: “I thought that if I could master death, then I could bring you all back. It was the only thing that kept me going most nights.”Gavin doesn’t say sorry for dying but he does reach out to tangle his and Michael’s fingers together.





	if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind

**Author's Note:**

> inspiration from episode 4 when Michael says he'll master death to bring back lindsay and gavin. 
> 
> warning for angst

The first thing Gavin feels is pain. There’s a yanking sensation behind his naval, like a plug being pulled out of a drain, and then something static shudders along his skin, making him want to scream. His blood suddenly feels thick in his veins and it makes him gag, dry throat stinging.

Abruptly, like him gagging was a flick of a switch, he can smell again, everything in the room overpowering and clogging his mind. Gavin can feel his stomach roll at the mix of herbs and burning flesh in the air and he gags, acid burning his mouth.

He tries to raise his hands to cover his nose and mouth, but his limbs feel heavy and only his fingers respond by twitching.

He hears a loud whining sound, something desperate and feral, and it takes a few seconds to realise its him making the noise. Once he registers this a loud buzzing fills his head and makes him sob, gagging again at the overpowering sensations.

“Gavin?” a voice demands above him, making him flinch. “Fucking Christ. Gavin?”

Opening his eyes hurts, the brightness of the room making him feel faint, and for a moment Gavin’s convinced he'll pass out. But then there's a hand lifting his head up and something being secured around his neck and suddenly everything falls away to leave him gasping and shaking on a hard surface.

This time when he gags he's able to twist himself to the side and throw up on the floor, yellow bile splattering against stone.

“Gavin?” a voice says again anxiously, dirty feet coming into his line of site.

He follows the feet up, taking in pale legs, dirty yellow shorts, matted curly hair, and a massive bear skin covering someone who can only be Michael.

 _Michael?_  he tries to demand, but his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth and makes him slur something unintelligible instead.

Michael seems to understand, gaunt face lighting up with a manic smile that makes Gavin uneasy.

“I did it.” the other man breathes. “You're really here.”

Something about this situation screams wrong wrong  _wrong_  and all of Gavin's instincts are telling him to retreat, but he can't seem to move from his slumped over position. Michael looks ill, bruises scattered across his arms and legs and fingers glowing blue with something unnatural, something dangerous looking. 

Gavin spits onto the floor, stomach still rolling, and takes in his surroundings with confusion. He’s in a small stone room that’s shimmering with a blue glow, the source being a bubbling cauldron of something off to one side. The same blue radiates from Michaels fingers and trails up the veins of his arms and Gavin knows for sure that something is wrong.

“Michael.” Gavin’s voice cracks, throat scratchy and mouth like cotton. “What have you done Michael?”

Michael’s laugh borders on hysterical and for a moment Gavin wonders how Michael died. Then, when he looks around again, something heavy sinks into his stomach.

The air in the room, although thick and heavy, isn’t suffocating and hot. The bed he’s lying in feels  _soft_  and when he curls his fingers into the sheets they're cool to the touch and oh god-

Gavin throws up again, cutting Michael’s laugh off, and his breaths come out in short pants.

“Michael.” he wheezes desperately. He doesn’t want to ask (doesn’t need to ask, the answer obvious) but some part of him needs to hear it. “Michael please.”

“I brought you back.” The other man says with a blinding smile. “I mastered death, and I brought you back.”

The panic descends on Gavin again and he gasps like he’s drowning, eyes rolling back into his head as he passes out.

 

* * *

 

 

This time when Gavin wakes up he doesn’t feel like tearing his own skin off.

He’s lying on a bed that’s softer than the one before and the air around him smells of flowers and burning wood.

When he blinks his eyes open it's to big open ceilings and stained-glass windows letting in daylight - actual sun beams, Christ, Gavin had forgotten how pretty the real world was - and the sound of torches crackling on the walls.

He pushes himself up with shaky arms and feels winded by the action. He stares down at his pale hands and skinny fingers, veins buzzing from his  _beating heart_  which is - which is weird, because Gavin’s been dead for years.

Ryan comes to mind and something in Gavin yearns to see the elder man, to have him explain what’s happening, his all-knowing voice winding Gavin up and calming him down at the same time. Instead there’s no Ryan, no anybody here, because they all died, all of them but Michael-

Michael, who is climbing up the stairs and blinking in surprise at Gavin. A grin spreads across the other man's face and something twists in Gavin’s gut. He can't bring himself to smile back.

“Boi,” Michael greets happily. “Nice to see you finally awake.”

Gavin doesn’t say anything, eye’s watching Michael uneasily. The other man seems less unhinged then before but there’s still something bright and buzzing behind his eyes, something almost manic, and it puts Gavin on edge.

His eye’s trail over the other man slowly, lingering on his no longer glowing hands.

Michael looks older then Gavin remembers him. Not by much, but Gavin can tell at least ten years must’ve gone by due to the new wrinkles in the corner of Michaels eyes and the new broadness to his shoulders.

Gavin knows he hasn’t changed at all, face young and body lanky.

“I brought you water.” Michael continues, pulling out a glass bottle and handing it over.

Gavin doesn't drink it straight away, hesitating and staring down at the cold bottle in his hands before shaking himself out of his daze.  _Michael isn’t going to poison you, you idiot_  he scolds himself, uncapping the cork and taking a sip.

When the water hits his mouth he’s reminded that it’s been years since he’s drunk anything, his dead body never needing substance, and suddenly he’s gulping it down without breathing, thirsty and desperate. He gasps once he’s finished, body shaking and stomach feeling heavy.

Michael sends him a fond smile and hesitates before reaching out to run a hand through Gavin’s hair. “I’ve missed you.”

 _You too_  Gavin thinks. It’s true, he has missed Michael. He had mourned for him for months in Hell, feeling lonely and guilty for wanting Michael to just hurry up and die (to come back to him).

He can’t bring himself to say it out loud though, can't bring the words to leave his mouth, because he can’t understand why he’s  _here_. How had Michael dragged him from Hell? Why had he?

His hands shake in the sheets and Michael gives his hair a final tug before leaving him to rest.

Gavin isn’t sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep, but he does.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael has a full-length mirror in the bathroom. Gavin stands in front of it and stares at his body, wondering whether if this is just a different version of Hell.

His skin is pale and his veins stand out, sometimes glowing the same blue as he saw on Michael.

His eyes are blue now as well and there’s something so unnatural about them that Gavin can’t stare at his own face for long.

Instead he directs his gaze to the glowing gem hanging around his neck.

_“It’s helping keep you grounded” Michael said proudly. “Without it your wound would probably kill you again, but more slowly. It’s a healing stone of sort.”_

The stone, white and shimmering, sits next to the redness of his stitched wound. Gavin knows that this must be Michael's handy work. Something twists in him, curious to how many times Michael must of had to stitch himself back up to be able to do it this neatly.

There’s a hole in his heart still. If Gavin focuses enough he can feel how it makes his blood flow wrong.

Michael may be good at stitching wounds but he’s no surgeon. Without the stone around his neck Gavin knows he’ll die. He remembers the feeling of unbearable pain before Michael slid the necklace over his head, securing his presence in the over world. 

As his fingers trail over the stone Gavin can't help but wonder how long he’d be able to stand choking on his own blood for. 

 

* * *

 

 

“We have lamb for dinner.” Michael tells him later that night.

Gavin doesn’t say anything, keeping his gaze directed on the table.

“Because,” Michael continues, the cheerfulness in his voice sounding forced, “We were killing sheep the day you- well. That day. Because you wanted wool for the beds.”

“The day I died.” Gavin supplies, voice scratchy and low from disuse. He can see Michael tense up in the corner of his eye, the elder man pausing by the table with two plates in his hands.

“Right.” Michael agrees in a strained tone. He places a plate full of mutton in front of Gavin before taking a seat opposite him. “But you’re not dead anymore so it doesn’t matter.”

 _Aren’t I?_  Gavin thinks, fingers fiddling with the necklace around his neck and eyes glancing up to see Michael watching him.

Neither of them can stand to hold the other’s gazes for long, both of them focusing on their meals instead.

Food is another novelty Gavin’s missed. He’s not too sure if he’s actually alive again, unsure on whether this body will continue to age and decay like it’s real or whether he’ll be stuck with the same unchanging body he had in Hell.

He craves food though, just like with water, and he isn’t sure what to make of it.

The mutton tastes heavenly on his lips, on his tongue, and it sits pleasantly in a stomach that’s been empty for years.

“Nice?” Michael asks, sounding the most genuine Gavin’s heard him since he woke up.

His face, when Gavin chances a glance, is hopeful and curious, features soft in the flickering light the torched emit. It reminds Gavin of the Michael he knew once, of the Micheal he used to love before he died. 

“It’s really good.” Gavin admits, automatically smiling back at the grin that Michael sends his way.

“Good.” Michael nods. “It’s weird cooking for another person. I was worried I’d do it wrong.”

 _You’ve cooked for me before,_  Gavin wants to point out. Maybe that was a lifetime ago for them both though.

There are scars on Michael that Gavin doesn’t recognise, some old and some new, and rings adorn his fingers, sparkling and taunting in all their secrecy. Gavin’s scavenged the pits of Hell, lost and alone and hurt, trying to find somewhere to call home, never aging and never having to deal with the cruelness of this reality. 

Years separate them, the memories of Before being the only thing they seemingly have in common anymore. Years worth of memories overwritten by different lives. 

“It tastes lovely, thank you Michael.” Gavin tries his best to be polite, unsure how to act around the other man.

Michael looks uncertain as well and Gavin wants to laugh at the memory of them. He wonders if maybe they’re too different now, whether the new Michael and him are two different coins instead of different sides to the same one.

A dark part of him wonders if Michael will be the one ripping the stone from around his neck.

 

* * *

 

 

Adjusting to being alive would be easier if his blood didn’t feel like oil and the man he loved didn’t feel like a stranger.

He mourns for the Michael he knew and he mourns for his friends left in the scorching humidity of Hell.

Gavin fiddles with the stone, the weight of it oddly reassuring in his palm, and thinks that if this is how Michael felt when they all died, then no wonder he went crazy.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin wakes up alone in the castle and panics.

Without Michael there the world feels big and empty and  _quiet_. He remembers landing in Hell alone, the impact of it jarring his legs and the searing heat of the floor scorching his hands when he’d caught himself. There had been nothing but red surrounding him. Red sand, red marshes, red rivers of molten lava, and red staining his top, right over his heart.

The castle walls are gray, the sky is tinged pink and yellow through the stained glass, and when he runs outside in panic everything looks so lush and green that he wants to cry. He might already be crying, his shouts for Michael doing nothing but scaring the birds out of their trees.

Everything smells fresh and clean and Gavin almost misses the smell of hot rocks and sulphur.

“Geoff.” Gavin pleads, knees bringing him to floor and hands digging into the dirt. “Geoff, please help me.”

He wants the older man more than anything, wants his wheezing laugh and rough hugs. He wants to tell Geoff that he’s here, he’s alive, that Gavin hasn’t ran out on them all. He wants something familiar in this strange world he’s been brought back to.

He wonders what Geoff would think seeing him clawing at the dirt sobbing, shards of grass in his hands, and can almost hear hid voice say  _who cries and destroys the garden? Babies._

It makes him sob harder, forehead pressing into the dusty ground, and he stays there until the sun burns his skin and his hiccupping breaths turn soft. 

Gavin catches his own blue eyes in the reflection of the mirror when he’s washing the tears off his face and flinches away, wanting to smash it but not having the energy to do anything but shudder.

He lies in bed until he hears the door open downstairs, Michael’s voice quietly humming to himself.

Something like relief floods him and his eye’s tear up again but Gavin refuses to cry.

He pulls back the sheets on the bed and slowly treads down the stirs to see the other man, unsure on whether he wants to run to him or run away from him.

“Gavin.” Michael says brightly when he catches sight of him hovering on the last step. “Just got up?”

Gavin nods, eyes locked on the overflowing bag of flowers and potions in Michael’s arms.

“Lazy.” Michael scoffs, heading over to a door (The Door) and opening it to put the stuff down in a room Gavin tries to forget exists.

The cauldron still glows blue, the same blue as his eyes, and Gavin wonders how Michael found out how to bring people back to life.

“What’s that stuff for?” Gavin asks nervously, dreading the answer.

“Oh this?” Michael turns to Gavin with boyish excitement. “This stuff is to bring Lindsay back with.”

Deep down a part of Gavin knew that Michael wouldn’t just stop at him. It doesn’t make it any easier to hear though, and he thinks he should fight Michael on this.

“Is that a good idea?” he says nervously, fingers twisting together.

“What do you mean?” Michael frowns at him. “Of course it’s a good idea, don’t you want her back as well?”

Gavin wants to say _yes of course he does._ A small part of him wants to beg to have them all back, wants to beg Michael to teach him how to do so, but the bigger part of him knows this is  _wrong_. “You can’t control who lives and who dies, Michael.”

Michael pulls an annoyed face, turning his back to him. “Sure I can. You’re here, aren’t you?”

“It’s wrong.” Gavin says seriously, desperately. Michael pauses what he’s doing but doesn’t turn back around. Speaking to the other man's back makes it easier for Gavin to explain himself. “Can’t you see that? Michael, you can’t just bring people back from the dead, Michael. It’s not- It’s not right. It’s wrong, it’s immoral, you can’t just play God.”

Michael lets out a cold laugh and Gavin flinches back. “I’m bringing Lindsay back, Gavin. I can control this, I have controlled this, and I’ll continue to do so.”

“But-” Gavin tries, voice high and pleading. “Michael, surely you can see how bloody disgusting this all is?”

“Disgusting?” Michael demands, still not facing him. “You dying was disgusting. Ryan should have  _never_  shot you.”

“But Jeremy shot him back.” Gavin points out. “He avenged me, right? I really don’t think you need to bring any of us back.”

“It’s a bit late for that considering that you’re already here, isn’t it?”

“It’s not too late, Michael.” Gavin pleads. “You can make this right, let me go and go and live out your own life - there’s other people out there that you can find, surely.”

“If you’re not grateful to be back,” Michael says slowly, spinning around to face him. “Then why don’t you just take the necklace off?”

The silence between them is heavy, Michael’s gaze challenging him to take the first step. They both know Gavin isn’t going to take the necklace off.

“You don’t get a say in this.” Michael says harshly. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Gavin doesn’t need to be told twice, slamming the door shut on his way out.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael climbs into bed next to him that same night.

Gavin has no idea where the other man has been sleeping, but it’s nice to not be alone. He guesses Michael feels the same way.

They don’t say anything but when Michael reaches out to tangle their fingers together, Gavin doesn’t flinch away.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael disappears a few more times over the next weeks and comes back with more supplies.

Being alone in the castle makes Gavin feel sick and scared. He can’t bring himself to eat without the other man here, missing his presence, and normally finds the smallest space available to cram himself into and wait out the hours until Michael comes home.

He can’t help but remember that Michaels woken up alone to this empty world for years.

One evening, when Michael comes back with an armful of supplies, Gavin helps carry them into The Room.

He gives the other man a small smile that doesn’t quite fit right on face, but he gives it anyway because part of him understands why Michael’s doing this.

Michael looks surprised, then delighted; It makes something warm fill Gavin and for the first time since waking he thinks they’ve reached a common ground.

The blue of the room makes him shudder, but he places the flowers and herbs on the table in the corner.

The next night he manages to sit on the hard bed in the room and watches Michael work. The other man seems thrilled to have his company and they fall into something almost familiar.

Gavin cracks up at something stupid Michael says, and it makes the other man look at him like Gavin just gave him the world.

“I forgot what your laugh sounded like.” Michael says quietly.

“I never forgot yours.” Gavin says. “Lindsay can imitate it pretty well.”

Something like longing flashes across Michaels’s face and he feels bad for reminding the other man about all the years they’ve spent together without him.

“Does she miss me?” he asks.

“I think she misses you more than I did.” Gavin tells him honestly, avoiding the other man's gaze. He was never good at  _feelings_ , but this was the least he could do for Michael.

“Did you look after her?” Michael asks a while later. They don’t speak much about Gavin’s time in Hell, normally talking about Michael’s adventures instead.

“I tried.” Gavin says, thinking back to when Lindsay found him in Hell. “I think she looked after the rest of us more, though.”

Michael snorts at that, face gentle. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

Gavin tries to imagine Lindsay’s reaction to being brought back, wonders whether she’ll still have the bruise where the Zombie knocked her temple, and then shakes it off. He won’t have to imagine for too much longer.

It’s still wrong, Gavin knows, but he’d do anything for Michael.

“How do you bring someone back?” he asks, not sure if he wants to know.

Michael doesn’t respond, lips tightening and face closing off, and Gavin figures that it’s answer enough.

 

* * *

 

 

“It took me years.” Michael admits the night before they bring Lindsay back, both lying next to each other on the damp grass and staring up into the stars.

Gavin doesn’t ask what did, staying quiet and keeping his gaze on the sky.

“You all left me, and it hurt more than anything else. I’ve been stabbed, shot at with arrows, and I’ve fallen off cliffs, but nothing’s ever equaled to what I felt when I knew I was alone. When I knew that none of you were coming back.” Michael sounds like he might cry, which makes Gavin want to cry.

Gavin doesn’t say sorry for dying, but he does reach out to tangle his and Michael’s fingers together, the first bit of contact he’s initiated since the other man brought him back to life.

Michael holds his hand back slightly too hard, but Gavin remembers what it feels like to be shot in the heart and fall to his death.

He can also relate to the feeling of loss Michael’s on about. He found Lindsay when he was in Hell though, and then he had the others, whilst Michael had nobody.

“I thought if I could master death, I could then bring you all back. It was the only thing that kept me going most nights.”

“Why me?” Gavin asks quietly.  _Why not Lindsay?_

“I need you. I need her as well, and she’ll be here soon, but I - I just needed you.” Michael murmurs.

There’s more to it, Gavin knows, but he doesn’t press.

“I think sometimes I hate you for bringing me back.” Gavin tells him, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of Michaels hand.

His body still feels wrong, blood too thick for his veins and his heart pumping just out of time, but the feeling of cold dew sinking through his shirt to dampen his skin and Michael’s warm palm in his also makes him feel grateful.

“I know.” Michael doesn’t say sorry either, and Gavin wonders when they both became so selfish.

“I love you.” Gavin tells him honestly, the words making him ache.

“I love you too.” Michael says.

 

* * *

 

 

Gavin sits outside The Room with his back pressed into the wood of the door, knees drawn to his chin and shaking hands pressed over his ears.

He couldn’t bring himself to stay in there when it happened, the smell of herbs and burning flesh making him feel dizzy and nauseous. He’d stumbled out of the room with a hurried apology, collapsing against the door and sliding down it.

Lindsay screams from behind him as she’s dragged back through the flames of Hell by Michael’s chanting, the blue of his hands still staining Gavin’s vision as it leaks out the cracks around the door.

When the screaming stops he shakes harder, pressing his face more firmly into his knees.

Michael looks better now than when Gavin had first seen him, the mania lifted into something more human, more Michael, but he still has no idea how Lindsay’s going to react.

He can hear her muffled voice through the door and wants to run to her as much as he wants to run away from her.

Gavin knows he passed out when Michael brought him back, the other feeling confident enough to even tease him about it now, and he wonders how Lindsay can bear the feeling. She’s always been stronger then he was, though.

Still, he’s surprised when the door he’s leaning against is yanked open and he finds himself suddenly laying on the floor, head hurting.

“Gavin?” Lindsay demands, voice high and teary. Familiar hands card through his hair and then down his neck and shoulders, helping him sit back up, and then he’s met with the sight of Lindsay, lovely Lindsay, with her long red hair and pale skin and glowing blue eyes.

He doesn’t think before throwing his arms around her neck and shoving his face into her shoulder, emotion flooding him. She hugs him back just as tightly, making the same shushing noise he’d grown used to when they’d clung to each other in Hell.

“I was so worried.” Lindsay's saying, hands running over his back, his hair, and he clings harder. “You just left, Gav, and nobody had any clue where you went- god- we’ve been searching for days. I swear, we never stopped looking.”

Gavin pulls back to stare at her through his own watery eyes. “I know.” he says in a choked voice. “I missed you all so much, how is everyone, are they-”

He’s cut off by a shadow falling over them and he suddenly remembers that Michael’s here, that he’s dragged them both back only for them to cling to one another, and his arms drop from Lindsay’s neck to stare at the other man.

The blue glow still surrounds his hands, traveling up his veins, and he looks a horrible mix of happy and hurt (looks broken, Gavin thinks) to see them both huddled on the floor together.

“Lindsay.” Michael begs.

“You did this?” Lindsay asks, gesturing to them both.

Michael nods, eye’s wet.

“Fuck you.” Lindsay spits, standing up to shove Michael back.

Gavin scrambles up to separate them, but then he sees Lindsay’s shoves turn into pulls, and suddenly they’re hugging and crying, and Michael reaches out to grab onto Gavin and pull him in.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael and Lindsay are more alike than either of them likes to admit.

Gavin forgets this from time to time, but he’s reminded of it now more than ever.

When Gavin woke up after being brought back he felt confused and scared.

When Lindsay wakes up, she’s unforgiving and angry.

Michael, in turn, is also unforgiving and angry.

Gavin feels less confused then before but he’s no less scared when Michael dares Lindsay to take off her own necklace, a green grounding gem, and she does. The stone lands in the corner of the room and Lindsay thuds to the floor with a groan.

Michael rushes to her as Gavin scrambles after the necklace and together they get it back around her neck as she gasps on the floor.

“Please.” Gavin begs her, unnatural blue meeting unnatural blue. “Please don’t leave us.”

Michael doesn’t say anything but it’s him who Lindsay shares a long look with.

“Fine.” She huffs, shoving herself off the floor shakily and heading up the stairs. “I’ll fucking stay here, but I want you to know that I was happy dead.”

She continues up without looking back.

“Michael.” Gavin says. “She’ll come around, Michael.”

Michel doesn’t respond and instead storms out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, Michael brought you back first.” Lindsay says a few mornings after, just the two of them at breakfast. Michael was out looking for more herbs, planning his next step of necromancy.

“Yeah.” Gavin mutters, picking at his bowl of fruit. He hasn’t been able to eat since Lindsay returned, the castle too tense and the air feeling static.

“You.” Lindsay repeats, a frown in her voice. “And not me, his wife.”

 _I’m his husband_  Gavin wants to argue back, but he knows better than to pick a fight with Lindsay.

“I died first.” Lindsay points out. “Why wouldn’t he want to bring me back first as well?”

“I don’t know.” Gavin says tiredly. He’s been asking himself the same question for weeks.

“I’m not mad at you.” Lindsay nudges his foot with her own.

“I know.”

“I’m mad at Michael.” She sighs. He feels bad for her and for Michael.

He thinks back to how unhinged Michael seemed at first with his too bright smiles and crazed laugh. Gavin hadn’t realised how much the other man had changed but now the smiles Michael gives are real, and his laughter is pure.

Gavin supposes the same goes for himself.

“Don’t blame him for this.” Gavin says gently, thinking of soft curls and fur blankets.

Lindsay lets out a harsh laugh. “Who else is there to blame, Gav?”

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay's claimed the bed upstairs for herself. She lets Gavin have one side of it when he wants it, but he finds himself curled up on the floor next to Michael most nights.

The other man looks tired and it reminds Gavin just how much older the other man is then him now (how many years Michael spent alone.)

Michael seems grateful for his company, letting Gavin rest his head on his shoulder and humming endless tunes until they both doze off.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why him?” Lindsay asks Michael when she thinks Gavin’s asleep.  _Why not me?_  Gavin hears.

He keeps his breaths deep and even to keep up the illusion, head pillowed on Michael’s thighs.

“I don’t know.” Michael says.

“You do.” Lindsay shoots back instantly. And then, “Does he know?”

“Know what?” Michael mutters, voice sullen.

“You know what I’m on about. Don’t you think it’s better for you to be honest with him?”

Michael doesn’t respond, and Lindsay clicks her tongue. “Will you still not admit it to yourself? Is that it?”

She leaves after a minute and Michael continues to card his hand through Gavin’s hair gently.

 

* * *

 

 

Thing’s don’t get better, but they also don’t get worse.

Lindsay hangs around with Gavin until Michael turns up, then she’ll leave to go hunting for food or take a bath.

They all eat dinner together and Lindsay prods at Michael in a way she hadn’t before, barbed words and snide comments being passed between them both whilst Gavin watches from the sidelines.

He knows something needs to give at some point.

And then, it does.

 

* * *

 

 

“It was my fault.” Michael sobs, voice broken and high. Gavin knows he shouldn’t be listening to this, that Michael and Lindsay deserve the privacy, but Gavin is selfish and hurt and he needs to know why Michael brought him back first.

“After you’d gone, Lindsay, I thought I’d look after him for us. I tried my best, I tried everything, but then fucking Ryan shot that arrow and I couldn’t do anything-” Michael breaks off with a moan, as if he’s the one with the hole in his heart.

“You let him die?” Lindsay voices, making Michael sob.

“I should’ve been looking out for him, I was already stupid enough to let you die, and then he just. I wouldn’t walk across that platform again if you’d paid me, and he was just running up and down it like the idiot he is, and then he got shot and I just watched from the side.”

“Michael.” Lindsay says softly. “You realise him dying isn’t your fault, right?”

Michael sobs again, something broken and desperate leaving his mouth. “No.” he denies. “It was, I didn’t do anything, I just let it happen.”

There’s some rustling and then Michael’s cries are muffled. When Gavin peaks his head around the corner he sees both of them kneeling on the floor, Michael pulled to Lindsay’s chest as she rocks them both.

“Michael.” Lindsay hushes. “No, c’mon. If it wasn’t then with Ryan, it would’ve been later with something else.”

Michael cries harder at her words, head shaking.

“Yes.” Lindsay says firmly. “You love two idiots, making you the biggest idiot of us all. If not then, it would’ve been later.”

Gavin ducks his head back and sinks down to the floor, gut twisting inside him.

He hadn’t realised Michael had felt this guilty all along. Surely, he knew Gavin’s death, if anyone’s fault, was Ryan’s.

“That’s why you brought him back first?” Lindsay asks gently.

“Yeah.” Michael’s voice cracks. “He’s my responsibility and I was meant to look after him for us both, and I let him die.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lindsay and Michael sleep on the bed upstairs that night and Gavin curls up on the floor by himself, feeling out of place.

It took Lindsay one look at Michael to know all his secrets, secrets Gavin’s been trying to figure out for months.

Now he knows them, he isn’t sure what to do.

 

* * *

 

 

After that night Gavin doesn't hear anything else mentioned about it.

The atmosphere settles, like the relief of the cold after a storm, and they all start to adjust.

Some days it's more difficult than others, but they make routines and it becomes familiar.

Lindsay starts joining Michael on his outings and drags Gavin along with them after finding him shaking in a corner, head in his hands and suffocating on his own loneliness.

They travel together through forests Gavin's never seen and enter temples he couldn't imagine if he tried.

Michael is wary at first, on edge and skittish whenever one of them ventures too close to danger, but after Gavin twists his ankle whilst tangled in trip wire and Lindsay gets bruised trying to help him escape, things seem to settle.

"Fucking Christ," Michael mutters under his breath, helping Gavin limp back to where they made camp whilst trying to keep his eye's trained on where Lindsay's walking. "You two are going to be the death of me."

Lindsay laughs at that, loud and bright, and Gavin follows suit. "Think we've already succeeded in that, Boi." 

"You wish." Michael grunts as he shifts more of Gavin's weight onto himself. "I'm the only one smart enough to actually stay alive." 

"Smart?" Lindsay snorts. "I reckon it's just plain luck."

"Luck has nothing to do with it." Michael denies. "I just have the best survival skills."

"Building a castle was a bit much though, don't you think?" Gavin chimes in, squawking when Michael bumps him into a tree. "Michael." he whines.

"Sorry." Michael says airily. "I tripped."

"Micoo" Lindsay says in a thick voice. 

"Michael." Gavin agrees, making his voice more whiny. "We love your castle, Michael."

Lindsay hums in agreement, twisting back around to give Michael a kind smile.

"We love you, Michael." She says.

 

* * *

 

 

There's a tally chart carved into the walls of The Room, hidden behind bottles of bubbling potions and drying flowers.

Gavin doesn't stay in there long, especially when he catches sight of it, but he can't forget it.

In hell, time didn't matter; It was scattered and lost without a clear day and night.

Here in the real world every day exists. There are thousands of lines scratched into the stone, some precise and others shaky and deep.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jack and Jeremy are head of the Gavin search party.” Lindsay says when they’re all out hunting for dinner.

She and Michael both have diamond swords and have banned Gavin from leaving their sides.

“Really?” Gavin asks, heart twisting at the thought of the rest of them still stuck in Hell. “Not Geoff?”

“Geoff thinks Ryan’s hidden your body somewhere.” Lindsay laughs. “I tried convincing him otherwise, but he’s never forgiven Ryan for the first time.”

“Good.” Gavin says smugly.

“Don’t you think Ryan’s suffered enough?” Lindsay scoffs, swinging her sword down and missing a chicken.

“Probably has.” Gavin agrees. “It’s nice to hear Geoff’s still on Team Gavin though.”

“What did I tell you down there about it?” Lindsay teases, gesturing towards the floor. “No fucking teams.”

“You’re Team Gavin too.” Gavin coos.

“You’ve forgiven Ryan?” Michael cuts in with a strained voice. Gavin thinks back to the night he heard Michael crying, where he heard his confessions of guilt, and tries to word his answers carefully.

“Yeah.” Gavin says, eye’s tracking Lindsay as she runs off after a sheep. “I mean, it wasn’t his fault I was pissing about, was it?”

He sees Michael frown out of the corner of his eye. “I guess.” the other man murmurs.

“It’s nobody’s fault but mine really.” Gavin presses, meeting Michaels gaze head on.

“You don’t blame Ryan at all?”  _You don’t blame me?_  his eyes say.

“Nope. It was years ago now, anyway, and I’m first back, so I win.” Gavin grins, butterflies fluttering when Michael grins back.

“I thought you didn’t want to be back?” Michael asks curiously, hand curling around Gavin’s waist to pull him in.

Gavin didn’t want to be back at first, not with a strange man and nothing familiar in sight. Now though, there’s creeper heads hanging up on the castle walls alongside Lindsay’s stolen paintings, and Michael makes them dinner every night without fail. It feels like home. “I do now. I don’t want to leave.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I didn’t realise you’d all find each other, you know.” Michael murmurs to Gavin a few weeks later. They’re curled up together on the bed, fur blanket pulled over their heads to block out the rest of the world.

“No?” Gavin asks, voice quiet.

“No. I thought that that, you know, when you’re dead, you’re dead. I didn’t think you’d find each other in Hell.”

It’s silent for a moment and Gavin wonders whether Michael sometimes wishes he’d died first.

“Do you regret bringing me and Lindsay back?” Gavin asks.

“No.” Michael says firmly, grip tightening on Gavin’s hip. “Even if I knew you were together down there, I’d do it again anyway.”

“Why not just die?” Gavin bites his lip, and Michael smooths his other hand across Gavin’s cheek.

“I think dying is the only thing in this world that scares me.” Michael confesses.

Gavin hums, leaning his forehead into Michaels. “It’s the scariest thing that ever happened to me.”

“I’ll bring the rest of them back too, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, i have a new found love for every new mc series ah bring out. pure insp bleeds from them <3
> 
> i have another sky factory!au in the works but i also have uni assignments i put on hold to write this so lol
> 
> title is from I Found by Amber Run bc i'm too unoriginal to create my own
> 
> uwu
> 
> [ feel free to follow me on tumblr ](https://nnaylik.tumblr.com)


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